Addiction
by Whispered Winters
Summary: AU!Highschool Maka Albarn is a seventeen year old girl with a ghastly secret, an addiction that involves blood and a razor. When Soul Evans meets her for the very first time, he finds that he has an addiction also but all that his addiction involves is her. TRIGGER WARNING: cutting, panic attacks, depression, anger, swearing and lemon (in future).
1. Prologue

**A/N: So this is my first ever story on FF. Please treat me kindly! :) Updates will most likely be weekly, on Fridays. Please R&R :D **

**p.s this is merely a prologue, actual chapter will be up tonight-ish? **

Maka remembers the first time it happened, the very first cut. Mama was gone, Papa was off at some bar like always. The night was dark and lonely, summer air drifting thickly into her new unfamiliar room. Their divorce was to be finalized the next day, and emotions of panic and sadness she had never felt before hit her fast like a bullet train. She was just unpacking the last of her things in her fathers new apartment, tearing open boxes one by one to put away her things but before Maka realized it she was crying. Hot teardrops fell from her forest eyes, wetting her lips and falling onto her chest to settle uncomfortably into the crevice between her practically nonexistant breasts.

It was right below her left wrist, once single pure blood red line done with the box cutter she was holding. It wasn't deep, quite shallow really, but it was deep enough for the blood to swell. For the blood to gather, and Maka watched as it became a droplet that fell from her fingertips to the linoleum floor. The moment it splattered was the moment that Maka knew that she was hooked.

She knew that she needed that blood now, she needed it to pour from her skin and to stain her pureness. From the very first cut, Maka Albarn was addicted.

'''''''

"Maka! Sweetheart are you awake?" Spirit Albarn barges into his only daughters room, spatula greased with oil in one hand and a smile plastered on his face. Before he could take a look around the room a pillow came flying at his face. The impact made him stagger back and fall onto his ass.

"Don't barge in, Papa!" Maka yells, slamming the door for emphasis. Spirit moves the pillow from his face and chuckles.

"That's my Maka." He murmurs, getting up to finish her breakfast.

Maka turns back and forth in the mirror, tugging down the sleeves of her white button up shirt and checking the length of her red plaid skirt. She pulled it down a bit more to cover some faint week old scars, a gulp following the slight action. Maka straightens her cashmere vest which was part of the Spartoi high school uniform and continues to scrutinize her reflection. She was a tall girl with endless legs and sandy hair that was usually pulled into low pony tails. It was her preferred choice of hairstyle, it's the type Mama would always put her hair in when the family went out for a nice day. Maka cups her chest, grimacing at the size. She had hoped they would grow, but alas they had stayed small.

Maka sighs, knowing it really won't get any better than this. She grabs her white leather gloves and trench coat before leaving her room to find her Papa spooning a bit of rice into a bowl. He smiles at her, shoulder length red hair falling across his eyes. He blows it away with a breath and Maka rolls her eyes as she sits down.

"Itadakimasu!" They both say at the table before picking up their chopsticks and bowls. There was a comforting sound of kitchen clatter to fill up the strange silence.

"So, Maka, are you ready for your first day of school?" Papa asks cautiously.

"Mhm." Maka eats quickly, answering her fathers questions with single curt words. He winces at her harshness, knowing that he blamed her for the divorce. She was right for it, but it still it hurt him. He loves his daughter more than anything in the world, her Mama too but the man just didn't know how to show it.

"I'm done, thank you for the food. I'll be off now!" Maka stands quickly, grabbing her bag from the living room.

"Don't you want to ride with Papa, Maka?" Spirit asks hopefully with a smile.

"Ride to school with the vice principal?" Maka laughs at the idea. "No thanks, Papa."

"Good morning, Soul!"

Soul Evans grunted at the cheery maids voices, pulling the covers of his bed up over his head.

"No, you must be up, Soul!" A voice says.

"Yes, it is the first day of school, Soul!" Another voice reminds him. Before he knew it the warmth of his comforters were ripped off his body and he was hit by a blast of cold air.

"Ugh, fuck you!" Soul screams, sitting up abruptly. He rubs his face, glaring at the maids through his fingertips. They smiled at him, sugary and sweet as their hands were clasped and held in front of their stomachs.

"Good morning, Soul!" They say.

"The shower is running for you." The one on the left says with her hair in a braid.

"And breakfast is being prepared!" The one of right tells him cheerily, hair swept up in a bun.

"Fuck off." Soul grumbles, a hand running through his snow white hair. "I'm awake."

"Shall we help you into the bath?" Braid says.

"No."

"Are you sure?" Bun asks.

"Yes, just fuck off!"

Satisfied at his lively profanities, the pair bows and leaves the young master to himself. Soul crawls off his bed, lids still heavy. The man, no longer just a teen, walks his way to his bathroom and splashes his face with cold water. The steam from his bath was building up and Soul sighs. He strips the only piece of clothing he had on, a pair of boxers, and walks under the hot steady flow of water.

Sleep and hot water slides off his body, finding it's way down the drain. Soul stands underneath the shower, grumbling underneath his breath. "Fuck school." He murmurs, closing his eyes. Soul breathes in the steam, lubricating his parched throat. He sighs again and remembers a saying his mother once told him.

_Each sigh you make takes away a little bit of your happiness._

Soul scoffs. He must have had no happiness left then.


	2. One

**A/N: Like wow i said tonightish and suddenly it's monday? aha sorryy. but yes, chapter one is here and it's nice. I am pretty okay with it. R&R? It'd make me happy hehe :)**

**Disclaimer: oh yeah, i don't own Soul Eater! Sadly. **

The air was warm from summer and the sun shined brightly. Maka watched the students walk past her towards the school. They all wore her uniform, boys donning black pairs of slacks instead of a skirt. It was nice and peaceful, honestly, and Maka loved it. That's what she needed. Nice and peaceful, no drama, no more yelling, no more pain. That was what Maka thought she was going to get, what her life was soon going to be.

That was until she almost got run over by a motorcycle.

It wasn't like in a movie. It wasn't in slow motion and she didn't turn to see his eyes widen in fear. There was no thumping of her heart in her ears or gasp. No, it was more like someone screamed, "Hey, girl!" and she turns to the left only to be hit by a flying body from the right.

Soul didn't know what to do. His brakes weren't working and like hell was he going to run some girl over so he did what the adrenaline told him to do. He swerved to bust a u-turn, only to have his brakes kick in. Soul finds himself flying through the air and hitting someone to have them both tumble to the concrete floor in a tangle of arms and legs. There was skidding, rolling around and a few swears before they stopped.

"Fuck." Soul murmurs, feeling something wet on his face. The concrete was hot underneath his back and his hands were on something soft, something warm.

"Get your hands off my ass." A voice hisses angrily. Maka glares at the boy in anger, waiting for him to open up his eyes. When he did she saw eyes the color of the blood pouring from the wound on his forehead.

"Oh, fuck, I'm sorry." Soul lifted his hands immediately. He watched her crawl off of him, wind blowing up a bit of her skirt. Souls eyebrows lifted at the sight of her white panties, wait red? He couldn't tell, blood was dripping into his sight. But was that scars he saw? What were they?

"Hey is he okay?" A voice asks.

"Hey, mister." Maka kicks gently at his shin. Faintly she feels blood drip down her shins from the scratches on her knees. "You okay?"

Soul blinks his eyes, blood flooding his eyes. He felt lightheaded and his breaths became shallow. His head falls back to the pavement painfully before he blacks out. Makas eyes widened at the sight of him and the first thing she thought was, _Oh god is he dead_?

Maka drops to her knees, not even grimacing at the grit getting into her wounds. She prods at him again saying, "Hey, hey are you okay?" There was no response and Maka shakes him harder. Panic drives through her like a spear before she starts yelling for help, yelling for someone to save him.

'''''''

Dr. Stein took in a drag of his cigarette, thankful for the calming effect. First day of the year and someone just had to practically kill themselves in front of the school. With a sigh, Stein flicked off the ashes outside the window and proceeded to crush the flame on the buildings brick outer wall. There we're dozens of black circles right below his window, evidence of his rule breaking.

"Stein? Soul is bandaged and currently asleep." Stein turns to find Marie, his nurse standing with a clipboard. Her golden hair fell in waves around her face, matching just as beautiful amber eyes. One was covered with an eye patch from an incident Stein did not want to remember.

"How's the girl?"

"Fine, not even shaken."

"Oh?" A small smile graces Steins lips, a rare occurrence. Marie sees it and her own lips mirror his.  
Maka sits quietly at the side of the mans bed, a book on her lap. Class has already started but the nurse had kept her there. Her knees were bandaged and there were a few band aids on her palms. It didn't compare to the boys, whose name she now knew was Soul, wounds. His forehead was encased in white bandage, as white as his hair and it's already been changed twice. There were a few scratches along his arms and his clothes got ripped. They had put an extra shirt by his bed, waiting for him to wake up before putting it on. Maka was scared for him, thinking she had hurt him so badly. Guilt flooded through her, been flooding her senses. The nurse said he'll be alright though, Maka thinks, biting her lips.

Before she realizes it, she's watching him. She watches the way his chest rises and falls with every breath, the way his eyes underneath their lids seemed to flutter back and forth. He had a strong jaw line and brow bones. Souls lips were parted as he breathed, showing the incisors inside just briefly. His shoulders were broad and strong and Maka knew he must have been taller than her. Maka can't help but think of his hands, the way they were on her. Of course, it wasn't like she liked it.

He was practically groping her! But they were large, warm; they made her feel...content. The accident was a blur, but there was no mistake. He had tried to protect her as best as he could, Maka knew that.

His fingers were long and elegant, a pianists fingers. Maka briefly wondered of he played before before the curtain was pulled open. She tears away her gaze from Soul to look up. Stein sees the blush and merely dismisses it.

"Maka Albarn?" Stein asks.

"Yes, that's me." She replies.

"If you'd like, you can return to-"

"MAKA!" A voice yells. Maka grimaces at the familiar voice and she turns away from her father when he busts in. Spirit gasps at the sight of his dear daughter, bandages on her knees and hands. "Maka are you alright, oh Papa loves you so much!" The devastated father reaches for Maka, pulling her in for a tight embrace for only a few seconds before he was hit on top of the head with a hardcover book.

The man falls to the floor in agony, clutching at his head. "Papa, please go away." Maka tells him.

"But you're hurt!" He yells in return.

"Papa, I'm fine, leave me alone!"

"But Maka!"

"Papa!" She throws her book at him in a huff, anger bubbling inside her dangerously.

"I'm hurt too, mister. I don't even get a hello?" Maka turns to the gruff voice to see Soul awake. He tries to sit up before a dull stab of pain at his temple makes him stop. Maka reaches out instinctively, helping him sit up correctly. Her fingertips brush the skin on his arm and Soul involuntarily shivers.

"Ah, Soul. Spirit is loud, isn't he?" With a chuckle, Stein walks over, taking out a small flash light from his white coat. He shines them in Souls eyes, pulling it away once or twice to make sure his brain was still working. "Any pain? Dizziness?" Stein asks in a professional manner.

"Heads a little sore, that's it." Soul answers. He steals a glance at the girl who was still trying to shuffle her father out. She was quite pretty actually, eyes a dark haunting green. They were wide and beautiful, reaching down to her little nose. The lips that were currently scolding another man were plump, red from being pressed together. Soul smiles.

"You can go home today." Stein tells him, jotting down a few notes.

"Is it alright if I stay?" Soul asks. Steins eyebrows lift in surprise. Most kids would have been halfway home by now, crying to their mothers.

"I guess. Make sure you get an escort, and no carrying heavy things."

"Yes, sir." Soul moves his legs to the side of his bed to pull on his shoes, ignoring the throbbing in his head.

"Papa, I don't need to go home!" Maka yells angrily. She turns to find Soul clutching his head, his face in a twist of pain. "Hey, are you alright, Soul?"

Soul responds to his name by looking up. She gazes at him with a mixture of fear, of worry. It was something he had never seen before, not directed at him. "Yeah, fine." He murmurs, pulling his shoes onto his feet.

"You sure? I don't think you should get up, Soul." He gulps as she says his name, feeling something settle inside his chest.

"Yeah, fine. You?" He scans her to see only a few bandages and he's grateful.

"Oh, a few cuts but that's it." Maka kicks at the floor shyly with her heavy boots. "Sorry by the way. For getting in your way and stuff."

"What? No, my fault. Bikes busted. It's so uncool to run over a girl." Soul runs a hand through his hair and sighs.

"That's right! You ran over my baby!" Spirit yells walking closer. "I should have you suspended! Expelled! How dare you hurt my dear Ma-" His dear Maka hit him hard using the spine of her book causing stars to dance around his vision as he fell to the linoleum ground.

"Dammit, Spirit." Stein grumbles. He grabs one of the pathetic fathers leg and drags him away to one of the other beds.

"Sorry we woke you. My dads a shithead." Soul laughs at this, and sucks in a breath when the pain hit him.

"Should you really be calling the vice principal a shithead?" He asks her standing up. The world swerves beneath him as black dots flood his vision. Soft hands help him steady himself and he looks to see Maka looking at him in worry. Up close he can see the curve of her lips, the bridge of her nose and just how long her lashes are.

"I don't think you should stand up." Maka says, urging him to sit down on the bed again. Soul plops down, grunting in agreement. She sits back down in her chair, crossing her legs at her ankles. Her skirt rises a bit, showing the side of her thigh. Soul remembers what he did and a blush rises to his face.

"Uh, sorry, by the way." Soul starts. "For grabbing you ass and shit." Makas face turns red in a nanosecond.

"It's okay." She says, barely loud enough to here. She cracks open her book as Soul settles into his pillows.

A silence settles over them, both quite unsure what to say. But it's a comfortable silence; a strange sort of alright silence filled with his steady breaths and the rhythmic turn of her books pages.


	3. Two

**A/N: hahaha i said friday but it's saturday? i'm sorry, apologies, I was at a friends house aha. Though I haven't gotten reviews or anything, i really like this story and I'm going to continue it. Please R&R :)**

Maka balances her own bag on her right shoulder while holding Souls bag on her left. He had tried to grab it from her, but one green eyed glare and he backed off. Soul though opened the door of the class for her, outstretching his hand like a gentleman.

"Nice of you to join us. I'm Mr. Barett." Mr. Barett says glancing at the two. The dark skinned teacher lowered his hand from the chalkboard to look at his attendance sheet. "Maka Albarn and Soul Evans?"

"Yes, sir." Soul says. He points at his head. "Had an accident."

"What happened?" Mr. Barett asks.

"I got in his way when he was riding a motorcycle." Maka says, trudging over to the nearest open seats.

"Correction, I almost ran her over. So uncool." Soul says sliding into a desk. Maka rolls her eyes but continues to sit down beside him. When Soul regained his balance and ability to walk without looking like a newborn foal, the pair had silently packed up and walked to the same class considering they were both seniors. Even in class there was no need to fill the silence between them with petty small talk. Soul contently leaned back in his seat, stealing sneak peeks at her and observed how she tucked a small strand of hair behind her ear or how she twirled one of her pony tails in frustration. Oblivious to him, Maka studiously copies down every other word that comes out of Mr. Baretts mouth.

When a note lands on Souls desk, Soul merely looks at it in boredom. It had come from above and he knew of only one person that had the nerve to pass notes in Mr. Baretts fourth period class. He opens it, the crinkling masked by his teachers loud voice.

_Who's the hottie? INTRODUCE HER TO YOUR GOD! -BlackStar_

Soul scoffs and shakes his head. BlackStar was a friend of Souls, his best friend in fact since they were babies. Soul at first didn't want to deal with the loud mouthed, far too arrogant for his own good, blue haired boy but the fact that BlackStar lived right next door and could climb into his room at any second due to their house close proximity did not help Souls cause. He scribbles down a quick answer and throws the paper back without turning his head. He and BlackStar had passed notes so many times before that it was almost second nature.

The blue haired boy has to lean forward to catch the ball of paper, his hand brushing the top of his friends head. "Oops." BlackStar laughs, ignoring the deathly daggers being thrown at him.

"Watch it, BlackStar." The boy fixes his hair, making sure the white stripes were parted perfectly down the middle.

"Aw, cool it, Kid." Kid Reaper turns around, ignoring his ridiculous friends antics. BlackStar quickly flattens the paper on his desk.

_Back off. -Soul_

"BACK OFF?! WHO ARE YOU TO TELL ME TO BACK OFF, SOUL EVANS!" BlackStar screams, standing up abruptly. Before Soul can reply, he watched a book fly from beside him into BlackStars cranium. The loud nuisance falls to the floor, clearly knocked out.

"Some people come to school to learn." Maka grumbles, straightening her skirt. Soul looks at her in amazement and when she catches his staring, a slight blush reaches her cheeks. "What?" She says meekly.

"That was cool." Soul tells her. Maka rolls her eyes but Soul sees that smile she tries to hide.

'''''''

Maka stands at the door of the cafeteria, clutching her paper lunch bag. The cafeteria was quite large and beautiful. It wasn't just any cafeteria, it was the cafeteria of an elite school. Part of the room was a full on international buffet and students payed using their school credit cards. A full salad and snack bar glittered with luxury in the back and Maka feels her mouth water. There was a corner of fast food chains that students lined up for, waving their money in the air and shouting orders. Regular plastic circular cafeteria tables and metal chairs were replaced by top quality rectangular oak dining tables and comfortable plus booths.

Maka stands awkwardly, book in one hand and lunch in the other while looking for a place to eat. Sadly, the library wasn't open on Monday's or Tuesday's so she had to eat in the loud cafeteria. Maka let's out a deep breath, her cheeks puffing up.

"Hey, chipmunk, why are you just standing there?" The voice makes her flinch and Maka turns to find Soul, looking at her with those dark red eyes.

"Don't call me a chipmunk." Maka snaps.

"Whatever tiny tits. Come on, I sit over-" His sentence was cut short once again by her book. She briskly walks over to the table he had been gesturing at.

When they arrive, BlackStar is the first to spot them. "You hit me with a book." BlackStar says, eyes locking with Makas.

"You were being loud."

"YOU DON'T HIT YOUR GOD WITH A BOOK!"

"Sit your ass down." Soul sternly says, shoving BlackStar back into his seat. He slides into the seat besides Maka and glances at her tray. He plucks the milk off of it and she only gives him a small look before returning back to her book.

"So, who's this?" Kid asks, sitting down at the table. Two girls follow his suit, sitting on each side of him.

Maka introduces herself. "I'm Maka Albarn. Just moved here."

"Kid Reaper. My dads the principal. Is your dad the vice principal?" He watches Maka grimace.

"Sadly."

"I'm Liz!" One of the girls says. She's tall young thing with long ashy hair, darker than Makas and eyes a piercing dark blue.

"I'm Patti! Her sister!" The other girl announces, giggling adorably. She looked just like her sister with shorter hair and a shorter build.

"Hi there." Maka gives them both a close lipped smile.

"Where you come from?" BlackStar asks, digging in disgustingly into his lunch.

"Japan."

"Whoa, Japan!" Pattis mouth drops.

"Yeah, my mom is Japanese."

"So you're half and half?" Liz asks. Maka nods.

"Wait, so, how did you and Soul meet again?" BlackStar wonders.

"I almost ran her over with my bike." Soul grimaces, hating the fact he's had to say it so many times today.

"Not really. I'm fine." Maka gives Soul a smile. BlackStar watches the way Soul just looks away, ducking his head down to hide a blush. _Oh, so that's how it is._, BlackStar thinks.

"So are you going to Homecoming, Maka?" Kid asks. He was rearranging the food on his plate and Maka watched, quite fascinated at his need for symmetry.

"Um, probably not."

"Why!" Patti asks completely shocked. "No! You're coming!"

"We need to have some girl time." Liz states. "Go shopping."

"Yes, please come. We'll all be there and it'll be a great way to really meet everyone." Kid tells her, urging the girl.

"I-I don't know." The idea of changing into dresses, shopping, the possibility of her secret getting out scared Maka half to death. Soul takes notice of her pulling at the edge of her skirt, playing with the page of the book she was on and quickly changes the subject.

"So, uh, how about the weather today, huh?"

"When did you become interested in the fucking weather?" BlackStar asks with a scoff.

"Since you became a dipshit, that's when." Soul jokingly insults. The two shoot one liners at each other as Maka smiles at the pair. She glances over to Kid who was trying to fix Pattis lunch but with one deathly glare he backs off only to try and help Liz. Maka finds herself biting her lips, pulling her sleeves down a little more.

She imagined their faces if they ever saw her scars. Disgust, hate, disappointment. She didn't know these people, but she wanted to. She wanted to make friends yet the task always seemed too hard, too difficult. At her old school, loneliness was a friend and having these people around her made her feel strange. Different. Maka wasn't quite sure if she liked it or not yet. She felt nervous and scared but her fingertips tingled with excitement for the future.

"Soul Evans and Maka Albarn, please make your way to the principals office. I repeat, Soul Evans and Maka Albarn, please make your way to the principals office."

The whole lunch room starts "oooo"-ing at the school wide announcement and Maka feels a blush rise to her cheeks. Already though it was just a few hours after the incident, the whole school had heard of Souls Bike fiasco and how Maka cling to him, trying to help. Soul sighs, eyes drooping lazily as he gets up. He grabs his books before Maka gets a chance to and she pouts.

"Dr. Stein said not too carry heavy things." She says.

"It's a notebook, not a two ton weight." Soul replies, walking ahead. Maka grabs her bag and follows him, catching up in a few long strides. The school watches them exit, hooting and hollering.

When they arrive at the principals office Maka is tackled by a red haired demon. Soul watches in morbid fascination as she nails a book on top of his head and he slides to the floor. "Papa." The young girl seethes.

"Oh, Maka, I just wanted to show you that your Papa loves you." He grovels from the floor. With a disgusted look on her face Maka shakes him off and walks away. Soul follows, giving the poor man a quick glance.

"Ah, hello, kids!" A chipper voice says.

"Hello, Mr. Reaper." They chorus. The man that sat in front of them smiled politely, sitting tall in his chair. Though his smile was genuine there was a certain air of danger and authority in him. The golden eyes that watched them were vibrant with life and vivacity. He wore a classy black suit, complete with a starch white shirt and skull tie. His hair was a glossy black, three white lines vibrant against the dark background. Maka thought he looked very much like the kid that sat behind her and she was sure that they were related.

"So, tell me!" He says cheerily. "What happened this morning?" They both started to speak, eager to tell their side of the story. Mr. Reaper held up one hand and they quickly shut up.

The pair look at each other and Maka mouths, "You first."

"Uh, well, I was riding my motorcycle to school." Soul starts. "I saw her and tried to brake but they didn't work so I busted a u-turn. Then the brakes started to work again and I was flung off the bike into her. It was my fault."  
"No, no!" Maka protests. "I was in his way, I should have seen him coming. It was my fault."  
"Maka stop." Soul snaps.

"Now, now, children, it's no ones fault." Mr. Reaper says, crossing his legs. "I just wanted to know the whole story from the people themselves. Oh, Soul, your brother came by to pick up your motorcycle."

"Wes?" Maka sees the strange look of confusion and sadness strike across Souls face before it goes back to the lazy careless look he wore usually.

"Yes, and your butler will be dropping a new one off in an hour." Makas eyebrows rise dramatically.

"You have a butler?" She asks quietly. Soul grimaces and nods. He had hoped she didn't ask him, better yet, not find out at all.

"The Evans family is one of our schools most generous supporters." Mr. Reaper states. "We are very grateful."

"Wow. Didn't know you were a rich kid, Mr. Evans." Maka teased. Soul shot a glare at her so sharp her giggle was cut short.

"Are you two going to the Homecoming dance?" Mr. Reaper asks.

"Have to." Soul murmurs. It was his duty as the only Evans son still in high school to attend the dances. Show off a nice face for the press to give a nice image to the ever prestigious Spartoi high school.

"I won't be attending." Maka says.

"Oh? Why not?"

"Um, dances are not really my thing, Mr. Reaper."

"Yeah, she prefers sticking her nose in a book like a loner." Maka doesn't even think about her actions and proceeds to whack Soul on his head. Soul looks to Mr. Reaper, expecting some kind of scolding. All Soul gets is a small smile, irritatingly similar to his friend Kids.

"You shouldn't be mean to girls, Soul."


	4. Three

**A/N: Whoa, hey guyss :) shoutout to my only follower aha whats up PotatoShavings haha anyways! This chapter is a tad shorter but i've done a bit of foreshadowing and stuffs. TOTAL cliffhanger in the end :o enjoy! reviews would be nice, but i'm not pushing ^_^**

**oh p.s Maka may be a bit ooc due to her different past :/**

**p.p.s i don't own Soul Eater :(**

Maka hears rough footsteps breaking the silence of the library. A shadow over towers her and she looks up to find Soul looking at her through lidded eyes. "Hey." She says quietly. Without another word she returns her eyes to the book on her lap and Soul finds himself plopping down beside her chair. For a moment nervousness bubbles up to his throat but he shoves the emotion down with experience.

"The girls are going out Friday for dress shopping and shit." Soul says nonchalantly.

"Hm?"

"They want you to go."

"I'm not going to the homecoming dance." Soul shrugged, leaning his head back. Fingertips brush across the crown of his head and he hears Makas small apology. It sent a cold shiver down his spine to his toes.

"Why not?"

"I don't want to." She replies simply, her voice accompanying the turn of pages.

"Cause that's a totally an acceptable answer." Soul grumbles. "Give me a real reason."

Maka bites her lip, looking down a tad angry at the mess of white hair. She couldn't quite tell him she didn't like people or that the presence of them sent her into a frenzy of anxiety and panic attacks. It just wasn't something that was brought up in everyday conversation.

"I don't like crowds." Maka grumbles.

"Why?"

"I just don't." Maka snaps her book shut and stands up. The bell rings, announcing the end of lunch and Soul looks up at her.

"You should come. I'll protect you from whatever crowds you're so afraid of. Cool guys do that." He flashes Maka a sharp toothed smile and her heart thumps. She couldn't remember the last time someone smiled at her like that, the last time _she_ smiled like that.

"I-I don't know." Maka rushes out of the library as he shuffles to his feet, following her quickly.

"Come on." He says, pleading. "Liz is dragging BlackStar and I along, I want you to come along too."

"Why?" Maka asks as she gets to her locker.

"You're cool." Maka looks at him to find sincerity but sees only his half smile and lazy eyes. She couldn't see emotions in that boy, only a childish sort of carelessness.

"I still don't know." Maka picks up books from the bottom of her locker as he stands, leaning against the wall with hands in his pockets. Suddenly she's attacked by two puffs of laughing blondes.

"So are you coming?" Liz asks excitedly.

"Shopping, shopping, shopping~!" Patti giggles, bouncing up and down.

"Makas too scared." Soul teases with a drawl in his voice. "Doesn't like crowds."

"What? Why?" Liz asks, shutting Makas locker. Maka sighs, and has to reenter the combination.

"I'm just not a crowd, loud noise person, that's all." Maka says, hoping they'd let her be.

"Pleaaassseee, Maka!" Patti begs, pouting adorable. Her hair bounces as she does, batting her eyelashes.

"Yeah, come on, it'll be fun. I'll invite Tsubaki too and we can have a girls night." Liz waggles her eyebrows in hopes of winning Maka over.

"Tsubaki?" Maka asks.

"BlackStars girl." Soul answers. "You guys are pretty alike, she's a book nerd too."

"And there's a book store!" Patti says. "Brand new! You like books! I like giraffes!"

"Book...store?" Maka says. Soul sees the first glimmer of interest in her eyes and knows instantly that she's hooked.

"Oh yeah, two stories, brand spankin' new." Soul says grinning at her. Her eyes sparkled and Soul laughs. "So you coming?"

Maka bites her lips, looking down to her books. She nods quickly then bolts off to her class, disappearing into the halls. Soul has a brief though about how adorable the gesture was. Liz catches his lingering eyes and smiles herself. That boy needed a little something sweet in his bitter life; maybe that girl was it.

'''''''

There is that annoying knock at his door again and Souls fingers pause, hovering above the black and white keys of his piano. "What?" He barks.

"Dinner is ready, Soul. Wes and your parents are awaiting your arrival." A voice tells him. Instantly his whole entire body stiffens at the name of his brother; his perfect older brother. A blast of jealousy overwhelms Soul before he shoves it down into the depths of his being.

"Ten minutes." He says. There was the click clack of heels as the maid walks away, satisfied with his answer. Soul gets up from the bench and walks to his closet. He pulls out the pinstriped suit that he favored beyond the other and changes into it.

Nervous emotions shook his hands. Soul hasn't seen his brother since, what? A few Christmases ago? No, farther back, since he was eleven years old. Wes had left for an elite school somewhere half way across the world. He was a prodigy and the last that Soul remembers of him was his hand on Souls head and a chaste kiss on his forehead. Soul would have barely remembered Wes' face if only it wasn't plastered on billboards and constantly shown on the goddamn TV.

Soul takes in a deep breath and stands in front of the mirror, boredly fixing his tie. It was stark black, standing out against the oxblood red of his button up shirt. Though his face was blank, a constant look of boredom permanently plastered on, the inside of Souls head was a hurricane. Emotions he hadn't felt in a long time threatened to make themselves visible with tears and shakes. Soul ignored it though, he shoved it away, pushed it into a chest of all his other emotions and padlocked it with chains.

The dining room was beautifully set and he could see his Mother and Father sitting across his brother. There was a puff of white hair but tamer, less spiky, perfect. Soul hears the laugh of his parents, smiles on their faces, something that he never got the chance to see. Angrily Soul walks over, pulls out a chair and sits. Immediately plates were set in front of him; beef stroganoff with a side of Caesar salad. A glass of pink champagne was set beside him and Soul takes a sip out of politeness.

"Hello Soul." A voice says. For a moment Soul was sent back in time when the same voice said goodbye.

"Hello, Wes." Soul says. Bracing himself he looks up to lock gazes with his brother. Red met red, anger met relief.

"How have you been?" Wes asks tentatively.

"You don't really care, don't ask."

"Soul." Mr. Evan growls. The man had red eyes like his sons, eyes that burned with a current rage at his youngest. "You haven't seen your brother in years, be polite now."

"Honey." Mrs. Evans voice was sweet and soothing, placing a jeweled hand on her husbands arm. She looks at Soul with a soft smile, only making him grimace. Her soft white hair inherited by her children fell in waves around her face. She was quite beautiful actually, a royal look about her but Soul hated it.

He hated the way his family looked because it wasn't what they really were. The public saw them as kind, sweet, loving, loyal. Soul knew what they were though, how the family really was. They were cold, they were distant, they were not a family.

"Well, I came back this week to announce some good news." Wes glances to Soul to try and find a reaction, any flicker of emotion across his younger siblings face. There was none.

"What is it, son?" Mr. Evans looks at Wes with pride. Soul sneers.

"I'm getting married!" Wes blurts out the words and gives a nervous laugh. Soul hears his mother gasp and then congratulate him happily, sees his fathers pride swell up.

"What's her name?" Mr. Evans asks.

"Lucy. She's really nice. I think you'd like her Soul." Wes sends him a smile with sad eyes and Soul snaps. All the inner anger, the pain he's felt over the years explodes in a burst of violence. He pushes his plate to the ground, the porcelain breaking loudly as his fallen drink drips to the floor.

"Soul Evans!" Mr. Evans roars standing up. "How dare you!"

"How dare I?" Soul laughs in his fathers face as his blood boils blissfully. "How fucking dare you!"

"Language, Soul!" His mother hisses, eyebrows knitting together.

"This is ridiculous, we all know that our family doesn't have dinners together." Soul snaps, kicking his chair to the floor. It topples over, crashing onto the already broken glass. "You guys make me sick, how fucking fake you all are."

"Soul, don't be like this." Wes says desperately. Souls heart constricts inside his chest, seeing the face of a brother that was never a brother. Eyes pleading, lips parted in unspoken words, fists clenched. Soul scoffs tiredly and shakes his head. He hated him, or so he thought. That was the only thing that Soul allowed inside him; blood red hate.

"Do not act like a child merely because your brother has found a woman and you are alone." Mr. Evan says harshly. "You push everyone away, Soul and you revel in your own misery. Do not blame us for your unhappiness."

"Bullshit!" Soul screams walking to him. He sizes his father up, standing tall instead of slouching. "I'm fucking fine, I've got someone, I just fucking hate the way you all pretend. It disgusts me. You all disgust me." Soul spits on the floor, a childish move he knew but did anyways. He turns and shoves his hands into his pockets, feeling three sets of eyes on him. He tries to walk away but his mothers voice makes him halt.

"You...have someone?" She asks, a tinge of hope lacing her words. "What's her name?" Soul searches his head but only one name pops up, and only one name could leave his lips. He doesn't know why he answers, he didn't have to, but he did.

"Maka."


	5. Four

**A/N: OH MY GOSH HEEEYYY New reviews and follows and favorites and ahhh! I'm so happy hehe thank you everyone! :) I'm like wow so happy and grateful haha well here's the new chapter! I hope everyone enjoys. Please review :D**

**I've got something to say though. This Maka in this story is very, very different from the anime/manga Maka because of how she grew up in my world. She's a lot more vulnerable and hurt, so I'm sorry if she's very OOC. The cool tough Maka that we all know and love though will make her appearance soon, I promise! :) **

**p.s I don't own Soul Eater. Sigh. **

Maka slammed the door shut behind her, throwing her things onto the couch in her living room. She kicked her shoes off and ran to her room, throwing open her closet. For once she was thankful that her Papa didn't come home early on Fridays; he was always off at bars the moment school ended.

Friday had come before she knew it and Maka, like any other teenage girl, had fret over what to wear. This was the first time she had gone out with friends, ever. Maka never really had much friends, unless you counted the fictional ones in books.

Maka was a quiet girl since birth. Speaking was barely occasional, laughing was a rarity and smiles were small and meek. People walked pass her, not giving the blonde girl a chance to show them her smile. Maka was small, a frail thing with dainty wrists and doe eyes. Maka was saddened by it, a loneliness pressed heavy on her chest at a young age. But she had been alright, she had been okay, until her mother left and her father drank.

Maybe that was why the only somewhat attractive thing that Maka owned was a dark navy blouse, too shabby to wear and a calf length black skirt that made her look like a prudish church goer. Silently she cursed herself for not shopping more often. With a sigh of exasperation Maka plops herself down on the floor. She couldn't quite go shopping right now, and she had no one to borrow clothes from. A brief thought entered Makas mind and she acted upon it before it could slip away.

"Papas closet..." Maka murmurs. He always had lady friends over, and no doubt that they might have left a few things behind.  
Maka scrambles out of her room and into her fathers, kicking aside a few beer cans and dirty pants in the process. She yanks open the oak closet and pushes back his shirts and vests. She finds her treasure trove when she spies a rack of skirts and whatnot. Maka grabs it and walks back to her room, trying to hurry.

She spread out the clothing on her bed after shoving her old things into the ground. There were a few shirts if you could call them that, they were more like pieces of fabric with some strings. Some shorts and some sort of band. Maka picked the band up, watching the blue green sequins shimmer. She realized that it was a skirt and a look of disgust appeared on her face. She threw it to the side and picked up one of the shorts.

They were black, seemed to be about her size. But Maka couldn't wear shorts, the possibility of her cuts showing were too high and she wouldn't risk it. Tights underneath perhaps? Maka strips out of her school clothes and pulled on a pair of black tights. She put on the shorts next, finding that it fit snug around her bottom but it was a bit short. The tights were a good idea, Maka thinks and she smiles at her own cleverness.

A sudden strike of inspiration hits her and she walks over to her own closet and pulls out her favorite sweater. She pulls it on and tucks the front into her shorts. The girl stands in front of the mirror, turning back and forth to make sure everything looked nice. Maka pulls off her pony tails, brushing her hair out with fingertips and pinches her cheeks for effect. The girl sighs.

"As good as its gonna get." She murmurs. Maka finds that in the mirror she does not see herself. She looks fragile, small and vulnerable. That is not what Maka Albarn is, she thinks, shaking her head. She needs something to toughen up her look.

The door rings, making Maka jump. She walks to the door, thoughts of who it was floating around in her head. A man in a uniform is at the door, holding a rectangular box wrapped in brown paper.

"Albarn residence?" He asks.

"Yes?"

"Package for Maka Albarn from Kami Albarn," Makas eyebrows raise at the name of her mother, wondering what she might be sending over. Sometimes Maka would receive a cold letter, a short minute long phone call but a package was new.

The delivery boy hands her the box and she sets it down, hands reaching for the clipboard. "Please sign." With a quick scribble of her name she says good bye. She doesn't see his eyes flicker up and down her body, checking the girl out.

Obliviously Maka shuts the door behind her with her foot and inspects the box. It wasn't too heavy but it wasn't quite light either. She sets it on the kitchen table and tears off the paper, delving into the boxes contents.

It was a pair of black boots, sturdy with two large silver buckles. Maka smiles as she runs her hand over the new leather, dancing her fingertips across the sweet metal. She pulls the boots on quickly, finding that they fit like an old sweater. Maka walks around, loving the weight and how they grounded her. A giggle surpasses her lips and a happiness sweeps around her. Maka relishes it and checks the box for anything else. There was a slip of paper with swerved handwriting and the smell of cinnamon.

"A present for my Maka. Enjoy it. Your mother." Maka reads aloud. She turns it around to check the back to find it blank. Rarely Maka got anything from her Mother. Even before Kami left, she wasn't very loving. Maka got kisses maybe once a week, a hug the rarest of occurrences. The words "I love you." were not in Makas childhood, not from her mother at least. While her father was giving with his words, he was not home to say them and it made it worse for Maka. The child grew up not knowing love.

Maka shakes her head, taking in a deep breath. She cannot think of that, not now. She was about to go out with friends, actual people. She had to smile, she had to be okay. She had to because this doesn't happen often. But Maka feels it bubble up to her throat; the anxiety and fear crushing her heart and swirling up her soul. It came from her stomach and threatened to take over her mind with waves of darkness and impurity.

Her breaths start to come shirts and Maka swallows hard. It was how it came that killed her. The urges that came in sporadically all through out the day, causing that itch at her wrists that could only be eased by the sharpness of a cold blade. When the world overwhelmed her, only the sight of blossoming blood could help her calm her breath. Maka had tried to stop, she did when they started to scar her once pretty white skin but she was addicted. She couldn't go for more than two days without the pain or Maka felt like she was going to go insane. It had only been a few months since her first day of self harm, but Maka feels like it's been years of hell.

Cutting is like meth. It rots you from the inside out, destroying you slowly with each time you slice your skin whilst it disguises itself as a sweet release. It's highly addictive, and once it is on your mind it will never ever leave. Your world will revolve around it; when can you do it, how you can hide it, and it doesn't even cross your mind to stop because it helps. On a biochemical level, cutting will release endorphins to give you a high. When you get off that high, you'll want to go back and the only way to get back is to do it again.

Maka walks to her room and gets down on her knees. She reaches underneath her bed, moving her hand around before she touches the shoebox that she kept hidden underneath there. Her mind was flooding with images and thoughts of blood and cuts, of the sensation and the aftermath. But Maka barely cares as she pulls it out and with shaking fingers and she lifts the lid. In the shoebox were gauzes, large antibiotic band aids and medical tape. Underneath the white medical supplies were her very own special supplies; dozens of razors of all sorts and sizes. Her beloved box cutter blade was in there two, lying above the others like a queen.

She picks out a razor and it glints in the light. The edge was thin, brand new and mesmerized, Maka touches it softly. She pulls up the sleeve of her left arm and while others would be abhorred by the scars lining her forearms, Maka sighs in relief.

_Just one cut_, Maka thinks dragging it lightly over her skin. She's lying to herself, and she knows it because with cutting, you could never just make one.

'''''''

"Hey, hey, hey, look at Tsubaki." Soul nudges at BlackStar with a smile. "She's looking pretty nice today, huh?"

"Shut the fuck up, man." BlackStar shoves Soul halfheartedly eyes still on Tsubaki Nakatsukasa. She was a beautiful girl, a year older than BlackStar and already in college. Her family was very prestigious and the Nakatsukasa heiress was the embodiment of pure class. Her long black hair was pulled up in a high ponytail, the luscious locks still swinging down across her back. She stood straight, chin up and a pleasant smile permanent on her lips.

"She's hot, I approve." Soul nods as BlackStar gives him a glare. The azure hair boy though bounced right back and started running toward the girls, yelling about his godliness and grandeur. Soul walks his way slowly over, hands in his pockets.

The mall was loud like it always was. Teenagers crawled around, ants in the cafeteria as they gorged themselves with greasy pizza and fake Asian cuisine. Soul slides into one of the cold seats as the girls giggle, sitting on plastic tables about dresses and hair clips or something of the sort. A sigh comes from him.

There was a chorus of "Hey, Soul."s and Soul gave them a nod of the head. Kid bumps his fist against Souls as a sign of brotherhood. Souls ear buds hanging around his neck blasted of the classics, something to cool his blood from the incident from the other day. He wondered why it was her that came to his mind. Probably cause I just met her, Soul thinks, brushing it off. A little voice told him it was more than that, but he ignored it.

"Where's Maka?" Liz asks the group. There were a few shrugs and Soul looks around the cafeteria. Suddenly from behind him there was the distinct thumping of feet and he turns. He sees her, green eyes wide and lips parted as she pants. She slows when she reaches the crew, a smile gracing her lips. She wore a pair of boots Soul hasn't seen before, large and bulky. Her shorts showed off a bodacious backside and the sheer tights she wore were subtly seductive. Soul saw that she was small though; her oversized white sweater hung a little off her left shoulder to show the luscious curve of her collarbone. Soul bites his lip, feeling and urge to suck on her flawless skin.

"Hi." She says meekly, smiling just a bit. Makas eyes flicker across the mass of bodies, gulping down a surge of panic. Her eyes meet Souls and he gives her that half smile. There was a pain in her chest and she turns away, urging it leave.

"Maka!" Patti tackles her with a hug and hesitantly Maka hugs her back. Tsubaki walks over, a bounce in her step.

"I'm Tsubaki Nakatsukasa." The heiress says, bowing politely. Maka was taken back by the gesture but follows the suit. After a few awkward moments of eye contact the two girls giggle.

"So, what are we planning?" Tsubaki asks.

"Dress shopping!" Patti giggles, squirming in her seat like a child.

"I already have my shit." Soul tells them lazily. "Why am I even here?"

"You have to help me choose out mine!" BlackStar yells angrily.

"Stop being a party pooper." Patti pouts and sticks her tongue out at Soul.

"We're here to hang out, chill man." Liz tells him.

"I'm the coolest guy you people now." He flashes them a smile. "You know it too."

"Alright, let's go before Souls cool guy vibe kills us all." Liz rolls her eyes and Maka giggles. The girls walk up front, squishing together side by side. Maka wasn't quite used to all the physical touches and she distances herself. Soul watches her inch to the side like a worm, watching carefully like a hawk. She was a weird girl, he decides inside his head. Weird, but hot in a strange dorky way.

"Hey girls!" Souls gaze flickers up to the voices. A posse of freshman boys were smiling at the ladies in front of them, donning snap backs and Supras*. There were four of them wearing smug smiles and expensive brands on the backs of their underwear.

"Outta the way, boys." Liz says, trying to walk away.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, don't leave so fast." One of them smiles and gently pushes Liz back, hands on her hips. Kid bolts forward and pushes the oblivious teen away from Liz.

"Hands off, ginger." Kid growls protectively. He glares at the teenager, golden eyes ablaze.

"Hey! It's the teachers pet!" The one of the far left says, giving Kid a small punch on the chest. BlackStars eyebrows shoot to the sky, fulling knowing Kids anger and wondering how these douchebags weren't dead yet.

"Move outta the way, pipsqueaks." Soul says in a bored manner.

"Ooo, look who thinks he's all tough cause he's got a bit of dough." The tallest one taunts, snickering. Tsubakis face scrunches up and obvious discomfort and disgust as Maka shrinks back from intimidation. She didn't like these people, not one bit. They scared her more than people in general scared her. She grits her jaw and Soul sees. His protective instincts kick in and he steps forward.

"I'm going to shove your head up your own fucking ass unless you move." Soul threatens casually.

"Yeah! And I, his god will smite you, motherfuckers!" BlackStar screams, puffing up his chest like a rooster before a fight. The quartet laughs at them, not knowing just what they were about to get themselves into.

"Hey, where you goin'?" The stocky one of the right asks, grabbing Makas arm. She winces, feeling the pain of her old wounds reemerge. He pulls Maka close to him and smiles as he snakes an arm around her petite waist. Makas eyes were large and full of fear, frozen by the close proximity between her and this stranger. Panic overloads her senses and she gulps once. But before Liz, Patti or even Kid and BlackStar could react, Soul did.

He punches the man holding Maka, feeling bone crack. The kid falls with a squawk of pain, holding his nose as he howls. Soul steps in front of Maka and glares with menace at the remaining teens. "Fuck off." He says quietly, voice filled with danger.

They run like dogs, tails between their legs.

"You alright?" Soul asks Maka, turning to her. She was looking at the floor, not saying a word.

She wasn't alright, but she couldn't voice it. Her throat and mouth were dry as her feet were glued to the floor. Makas breathing came in shudders and her hands clutch the fabric of her shirt as her heart beat painfully. The room became too hot to bear and dizziness hit Maka hard. She feels the tears leave her eyes and drip down her chin to hit the floor. Before she knew it she was sobbing as waves of nonsensical impending doom hit her and she knew that she couldn't avoid the attack now.

"M-Maka? Don't cry!" He reaches for her to comfort her but Maka flinches at his touch.

"N-No!" She yells. Makas eyes flicker up to match his and that was it. The hurt and confusion she saw in his eyes broke her. Maka whips around and starts to run towards an exit. She couldn't breathe, it was too much. The people, the touches, the words. It was too loud and too much and Maka couldn't handle it. She ran blindly, dodging people and turning corners. She could hear his pounding footsteps behind her, his voice calling her name with that worried voice and only when she reached outside did he catch up to her.

Maka sobs and crouches down, folding her arms to cover her face. She was ugly when she cried and she knew it to. She couldn't believe she was having an attack in public, in front of her new found friends. Maka cries obliviously, sun beating down on her back. She had run to a vacant part of the mall, some sort of back yard with a strip of sidewalk and a large plane of grass. There as no one she could see and she was grateful.

Soul watches. He didn't know why he ran after her, he didn't know why no one else ran after her but he did. And here he is, standing over a sobbing girl that he couldn't understand. Why was she crying? Why did she run? Why did she flinch from him? When she pulled back Soul felt a pang of hurt, the thought of her thinking that he was like the others cutting into him deeply.

"Maka?" Soul asks, crouching down. "What's wrong?" Maka doesn't reply because she can't. Her nose was blocked up and sobs traveled up her throat constantly, blocking off her airway.

She feels a hand tentatively touch her elbow and she stumbles back, barely able to tell him to stop. Soul puts his hands up to try and show her that he didn't want to hurt her and he waits a moment for her to calm. But she doesn't and he knows that he had to do something. He could see her struggling to breathe and Soul takes out his phone to call the ambulance.

"N-No!" Maka practically screams when she sees him. "Don't p-please, don't-"

"Okay, okay, I won't." Soul puts his phone away and tries to reach for her. It was an instinctive move to comfort her but she scrambles away. "Maka, I'm not going to hurt you." He tells her. "Please, let me help. Tell me how to help." His voice was so gentle and soft that he reaches her through the clouding despair and pain. She looks up, tears still falling and she glances at his outstretched hand. Maka suddenly feels her cold starvation for human touch and she finds herself reaching for him.

When they touch, he grips her hand tightly. He tugs her to him, allowing Maka to move forward or back, whatever she wanted. But at the first tug, she launches toward Soul, wrapping her arms around his neck. The warmth dissipates the coldness in her bones, but Maka doesn't stop crying. Arms wrap around her protectively, a hand petting the back of her head. His soft shushes travel to her ear and Maka cries herself to sleep, exhaustion of the panic attack overtaking her.

*Supras are a type of shoes :)


	6. Five

**A/N: Hey guys! :) Thank you for all the reviews and follows and favorites 3 they make me smile whenever I receive them! Please keep them coming heh**

**This is the new chapter as you can see. I hope you enjoy! **

**p.s I don't own Soul Eater :C**

"Should we go after them?" Tsubaki asks after Soul bolted off, following Maka.

"No, we shouldn't crowd her." Kid says. "I think she had a panic attack." He knew from past experiences; Kids OCD has caused him more distress then most his friends know. It wasn't a secret, but it wasn't shouted from the top of his lungs either.  
"Yeah, Kid has them all the time." Liz says, taking his hand sympathetically. Kid smiles and brings it to his lips, kissing Liz' fingers. Patti giggles at the gesture, rolling her eyes at their newly found love for each other. "It's better for one person to deal with them." Liz adds on.

"What if he doesn't know how?" Patti asks innocently. She remembers the first time that Kid had an attack around her and her sister. It was a frightful day for the trio.

"Then I, a god, will!" BlackStar yells confidently, walking towards Maka and Souls direction.

"Ah, BlackStar," Tsubaki grabs the fabric of BlackStars shirt and he turns. She gives him a small head shake and his confidence tones down.

"Think they'll be okay?" Liz asks, cocking her head to the left causing her hair to fall from its place behind her ears.

"I always turn out okay." Kid swallows, hand squeezing Liz's hand. "So hopefully she will too."

''''''

It had been hours before Maka woke up, and Souls legs had gone a bit numb. It was a weird position they had fallen into but Soul had adjusted her until she sat on his lip, head against his collarbone. He had fallen asleep also to with nothing else better to do but the moment she stirred on his chest he had snapped awake.

"Maka?" Soul says quietly. He looks down to watch her eyes blink slowly, beautiful green orbs still dark with grogginess. Her head lifts to look at him and he catches a breathtaking sight. She peers up at him through dark blond lashes; her slightly flushed cheeks matched the hue of her parted lips. Soul finds an overwhelming urge to lean down in kiss her but somehow he manages to hold himself back.

"Soul?" A small voice asks. Soul watches her eyes goes wide and suddenly she scrambles away from him, possibly scraping her hands and knees again on the pavement.

"Hey, calm down." Soul orders. "I'm not going to hurt you."

"What hap—I slept on you and I had a—Oh god I'm so so-" She was interrupted by Souls brazen smile.

"It's fine." He tells her standing up. He holds out a hand for her to grab onto and Maka cautiously does so.

"W-Where is everyone?" Maka asks.

"Home." Soul tells her, eyes boldly locking with hers. "You alright now?" Makas face turns red from embarrassment.

"Y-Yeah. Sorry..." Maka gulped, waiting for any harsh words. She waited for him to tell her what a burden she was, what a freak and what a retard. She braced herself for him to walk away and leave her there, but she did not brace herself for his hand touching hers again.

"Come on, I'll walk you home." Soul says. She stumbles along dumbfounded as he keeps a firm hold on her hand. She wondered why he stayed, why he didn't run. That what everyone else would have done.

Maka was silent as they walked down the street. The sun was still up and she checked her phone quickly to find the time. It was around six thirty p.m.

"Um, Soul." Maka says meekly.

"Hm?"

"I can walk home by myself. I take the train, it's okay." She tells him. Soul scoffs.

"A cool guy doesn't let a girl go home alone." He replies. He turns his head to the side, gazing at her with a sly smile on his lips. "You think I'll let you go home alone?"

"N-No...you're a cool guy." Maka looks down to the ground as her face reddens once again and he squeezes her hand reassuringly. They walk for a good ten minutes before they reach the roaring train station. Maka watched quietly as Soul paid for her train ticket because when she had opens her mouth to say something, he gave her a silencing stare.

"The trains crowded, you gonna be okay?" Soul asked her gingerly as they wait.

"I'll be fine." Maka says not looking to him. The images of him holding her, playing with the strands of her hair were still too vivid in her mind and she couldn't quite look at him yet without blood rushing to her head.

There was a whoosh of air as the train stopped at their station. Maka walks slowly, listening to the shuffle of feet and strollers holding gurgling children. Souls ears were flooded with music from his iPod and for a moment, Maka was jealous. A book can only drown out so much, but at the same time Maka didn't want to trade.

They were shoved onto the train in a wave of bodies. The closeness made Maka nervous, the shoulder to shoulder contact made shivers run through her. She hated this, hated people in general. She didn't want them near her, talking to her, seeing her. They didn't see her anyways, she was invisible to them and this was evident by the way the pushed her to the back of the train with shoves and silent body movements. She wanted to disappear, be gone from this world.

Soul dutifully followed her though, making his own way in the sea of bodies while she merely floated along. Soul spies her discomfort, the look on her face far too obvious to dismiss. She scrunched up her forehead, biting her bottom lip and pulling her arms into her chest as if she wanted to transform into a little ball. Soul gently pushes her toward the back of the train and grabs the pole by her right side encasing her between him and the wall. Soul bears the push and shoves of the crowd until the doors close and the train is off.

Maka blushes, feeling his body tower over hers. He wasn't too close, no he was a good two feet away. But his gesture was gentlemanly, something not many men did nowadays. Her heart beat in her throat and Maka begs, oh she begs that it would stop, afraid he would somehow hear.

After the first stop, a few people get off allowing Soul to take a few steps back. Maka moves away from him, scurrying away like a scared mouse. Soul turns around to find her still standing in front of him, thankfully. He didn't want to lose her here on a train. Truthfully, Soul was afraid she'd have another one of those...whatever attacks like at the mall. Soul was worried, not that he'd ever admit it to her, never mind himself.

Maka stands awkwardly by Soul, the tension between them almost touchable. She couldn't believe she let that happen, that she let those emotions overtake her like that. Her fingernails bit into her skin as she clenched he fist and grit her teeth. Maka stared at the reflection in the window of the train. Worthless, weak, horrible girl, she thinks, bashing herself harshly. The insults came far too easily to her, the hatred flooding her senses and tears pricked at her eyes. Maka wanted it, the sting on her skin and she wanted to be alone to feed her morbid addiction.

She was snapped out of it though by a hand brushing the back of her upper thigh. Maka tensed, eyes immediately going to Soul. He stood in front of her and there was no way that he could have reached over. His eyes were closed, buds in his ears to drown out the rumble of the train. Maka decided to brush off the touch as just an accident but the moment she feels it again on her ass she squeaks. Soul opens a lazy eye to check on her, wondering what was up.

She catches his gaze and blushes furiously, turning away. Soul watches her for just another moment before deciding nothing was wrong. He doesn't close his eyes though, and it was a good thing that he didn't because he caught that subtle movement of the man behind her. The hand slipping up Makas skirt to squeeze the young flesh there.

Before Maka could react with fiery words or a violent chop Soul had reached forward and over Maka. She gasps at first because of the hand on her ass, second because of the closeness of Souls body to her. They touched almost head to toe, his exposed neck a temptation. Maka couldn't quite understand what Soul was doing until he grabbed the mans collar and pulled him hard to the right, smashing the perverts head into a metal pole. There was a cringe worthy crunch of either his jaw or nose; Soul didn't particularly care. Protectively he grabs Maka by the hand and pulls her close to him, trying to get her as far away as the human he saw as trash.

"Fucking touch her again and I'll break your neck." Soul says with such venom Maka was shocked. His grip on her wrist burned, god it burned. His touch seared itself on her skin, inking her with protectiveness and care.

The man on the floor slowly gets up, his face the image of pure embarrassment. Luckily enough for him, the train made a stop and he bolted out the double doors, disappearing into the sea of squirming bodies. Maka watched him go, breaths short. When she turned back to Soul she was greeted by eyes of red, staring at her in fervent worry.

"You okay?" Soul asks quietly. There was a swoosh as the door closed and the train continued on but Maka could barely hear it over the roaring inside her head.

"Fine!" She says, harsher than she expected. "I-I could have handled it!" Soul was surprised. He expected a meek thank you, a cute blush like he would have gotten with all the other girls. Instead, he got a red faced girl, feisty and snappy with her replies.

"Yeah, sorry." Soul smirks though, leaning back a bit to give her some space. "I just don't want anyone touching you like that."

The words hit home in Makas heart and her breath hitches in her throat. She tries to hide her blush by whipping around, eyes studying the wet rubber of the train floor. Soul saw it though and a satisfied toothy smile emerged. Maka sees the grin in the window and finds herself smiling along. It was the second time that day he saved her.

''''''

"Soul, sweetie?" The pet name made Soul cringe but he gets up to open the door. He recognized the sugary voice and he knew who it was. Only one person would come to his room at eleven at night. His mother stands in front of him, smiling like a lady. She wears a silk robe and holds her head high like a queen as she walks into his room. Souls eyes follow her as she walks, already bored.

"Yeah, Mother?" Soul says tiredly. "I was about to go to bed."

"Your father is going to throw a party for your brother to congratulate him." Mrs. Evan says sitting down on his bed. She completely ignores Souls words, something not that new.

"I'm not attending." He tells her casually. The mother looks at her son, sadness in her eyes. No, it wasn't sadness. It was pity.

"Why?" The simple question made Soul laugh.

"You know why."

The silence that settled over them was suffocating. The Evans family never talked and only smiled in front of cameras. They were the classic rich family; they were pretty in public but pathetic in private. Soul was a lonely child as his parents fawned over his older brother. It has and will be that way. Over time, Soul had realized and accepted this. Didn't mean it didn't hurt him.

"I want you to bring her." Mrs. Evans says, raising her chin. Her tone changed from soft and sweet to hard and cold.

"Who?"

"Maka." Soul gulped at the name. He knew that his actions would come and bite him in the ass one day. He just didn't realize it'd be so soon.

"No. I won't." Soul replies steely.

"Why not?" Mrs. Evans asks standing. "I just want to meet the girl that stole your heart." She flashes him a smile, the one she used on the guests that came over for their dinner parties.

"She hasn't stolen my heart." Soul tells his mother through gritted teeth but he wasn't quite so sure of the statement. She's been overtaking his thoughts lately, weaseling her way into his dreams even when he didn't want her to. He shoved the thoughts away, focusing on his mother.

"Bring her." His mother orders walking over to her youngest son. "I'm going to meet her. Do you understand?" Her cold demanding voice made Soul shiver. She was using that tone, the tone that you could not argue with. Throughout the years Soul find that arguing with that voice might as well be suicide.

"Yes, Mother." He says obediently. She smiles, face lighting up. Soul was amazed at what an amazing actress his mother was. Mrs. Evans kisses her son chastely on his cheek and then pats it affectionately.

"Good. Night Soul." She walks out his room but then pauses at the doorway. Without turning her head she tells him over her shoulder, "Make her she's dressed appropriately. This is a black tie event."


	7. Six

**A/N: Hello everyone :) chapter six! i have a feeling this fic is going to be quite long aha, sorry :P but anyways! I hope you enjoy the new chapter :) this is a biit of a filler, and the next chapter will be better promise :) **

**p.s i don't own soul eater. blech.**

**p.p.s i use too many smily faces but *icona pop voice* i don't care!**

The weekend passed in a flash and Maka dreaded the coming Monday. On the regular basis she would look forward to walking into school and learning from her teachers but the thought of seeing her friends, if they still considered her a friend, scared Maka. To be honest, it scared her shitless. She didn't want to imagine their stares and hurtful remarks, she didn't want to think about how lonely she would be. Again.

That weekend Maka drowned herself in household chores and homework. She reread her books and slept for hours. All that she wanted to do was forget and forget and completely forget that trip to the mall but it was too vivid in her head. She'd find herself drifting towards the memory of that day and her focus on anything merely dissipated.

Maka could almost feel _his_ arms around her, still tight and comforting. She could almost feel the way his breath warmed the nape of her neck and she could swear she could almost smell his enticing cologne. But most of all, she could remember the feel of his presence. It was something about that man that made Maka...different.

She was brazen with him, more lively and vibrant. She didn't know what it was, whether it was just his presence or his strange influence. Those cool snide remarks, that dangerously handsome smile or those empowering blood red eyes. It was just something, _something_ about Soul Evans that made her shake and tremble and smile and laugh all at the same time.

"Maka?" Maka jumps at the voice. She turns to find her father walking through the front door. The door shutting behind him brought her back to the present and she wondered how she didn't hear him coming in.

"Hi, Papa." She says returning her focus to the dishes. He swallowed the lump in his throat, his secret rotting him from the inside.

"How have you been today?" He asks his daughter, slipping off his shoes and putting on slippers. Spirit lets his briefcase filled with work flop onto the floor as he walks into the kitchen. He pulls at his tie, loosening it even more. Spirit pushes back his crimson hair, glancing at Makas all too different golden locks.

"I'm alright." She answers timidly.

"How are you liking the new school?"

"It's fine."

Spirit feels a pang inside his chest. Ever since the divorce his daughter had been distant, even more distant than she was before. He could never get more than a few words out of her at a time, not even a laugh. He wondered how she was going to react when he told his daughter about _her_. Though he wasn't home very often, even Spirit could tell that there was a strange faraway look in his daughters eyes. Something was bothering her.

"So, tell me about your friends." Spirit stands beside Maka, drying the dishes she was finished with.

"Don't have many." She murmurs. Maka turns off the water and strips off her apron. She shoves it into a drawer and slams the thing shut, causing her Papa to jump. He watches her stalk off into her room and slam that shut too to leave him standing alone in his own home, unsaid words left on his tongue.

Maka sighs as she flops onto her bed belly first. Talking to people tired her out, especially if that person was her father. He had just always made her tired, made her irritated every time she looked at him. Every time she glances at his face she's reminded of what he did to her family, to himself. It made her teeth grit and her throat itch with words left pathetically untold.

The latest book she had been reading lay closed on her pillow, the elegantly designed golden spine shimmering. A hand reaches over to it and Maka flips onto her back, opening the book to her bookmarked page. She had memorized the number and line, not wanting to fold down an edge or stick a bookmark in it. The one thing Maka hated more than herself was marring the beauty of a perfectly good book in any way. Sure the lady had no problem in destroying herself, but touch her books and you might as well be writing your suicide note in your own blood.

Maka has always read books. They were a sanctuary to her, the only place where she didn't hurt. Fictional characters were always better than real people; they noticed people like her. In books, people like Maka saved lives, went on adventures, found that someone and lived that life. In just a few hundred pages, Maka could live a totally different life in a fantastic world.

A happy life, a life with a loving father and warm mother. She could live a life filled with smiles and happy tears instead of drowning herself in her own blood. Maka yearned for regular life, not one filled with such strife and such razors. But she didn't have it, and to fill the whole inside her chest Maka poured fantasies and fiction into it, hoping that the makeshift comfort will give her the strength to carry on day after day.

It was getting harder. She didn't want to wake up in the morning, wishing to sleep for eternity. Lead flooded through her veins while she bled blood and Makas head had become fuzzier. The thoughts of eternal darkness seemed to become more and more enticing. Much more attractive than living every day invisible to the world, better than calming herself with a lifeless piece of metal or burning hot showers. Every passing day, suicide went higher up on her list of solutions to her life.

Maka wasn't stupid though. She knew that plenty of people had it much worse than her. Poverty, homelessness, cancer; she knew all of that. It didn't change the fact that Maka was sad, and it didn't change the fact that she hated herself to no ends. People wouldn't understand that though, Maka knew and that was why she didn't tell anybody.

Nobody understands, nobody will understand. They're all so simple, like little ants with little needs and little actual thoughts running through their heads. _Who likes me, who doesn't? Does this dress go with these shoes? Gosh, how am going to find a person that will love me for the rest of my life at 18? _

It partly angered Maka, realizing that many others would merely brush her off or look at her with confusion but mostly it saddened her. She had no one to share this burden on her heart with, no one to ease it. She could only make it worse, scratching at the scab until it bled again, until it scarred.

A guttural groan emitted from Makas lips and she curls up into a ball, halfheartedly draping a blanket over herself. She was on the verge of sleep when her phone buzzed with a message. Groaning again she crawls her way across the bed and picks up her phone from the bedside table.

_It's Soul. Stole your number from Liz's phone. _

Maka stared at the message in confusion for a moment, settling back into her blanket. She wondered who she should reply, what she should say. Panic struck her but Maka pushes back the vile emotion and starts to type an answer.

_Oh. Hi, Soul._

It was all she could manage. She never really texted after all. She didn't have anyone to text, and the phone was used as an alarm and nothing more. Maka looked at her reply with mild disgust. She couldn't even text right.

It didn't surprise Soul though who let himself smile at the meek response. "Typical." He murmurs, shaking his head.

"I don't care what's typical, get your ass back on the court!" BlackStar screams impatiently.

"Honestly, Evans, can we just play so I can kick you ass then go home?" Kid asks arrogantly. Soul scoffs and rolls his eyes. Swiftly he answered then put his phone in his pocket, returning to the basketball game that he was playing.

_Come meet me at the park. We're playing basketball._

_"__We're"?_

_Everyone from the mall. Come on your own or I'll come and get you._

The idea of Soul coming to her house and very possibility meeting her father outside of school made Maka sit upright so fast it made her head spin. Quickly she typed an answer and got off her bed to grab a pair of running capris she bought on instinct though she already had so many. They were cheap and made of that strange sporting material that was airy and light. She pulls them on and grabs her running shoes before she bolts out her door.

"Oh, Maka!" Spirit gets off the couch and Maka turns, eyes flickering to the beer in his hand.

"What? I'm going out." She tells him.

"I want you to meet someone next weekend." Spirit gulps and walks over to his daughter, taking her hand. She pulls it away harshly, not looking up to see the hurt in his eyes. Spirits jaw sets stubbornly, not letting her leave without him at least telling her.

"Who?"

"The woman I'm engaged to. I'm getting remarried." Spirit held his breath, grit his teeth awaiting a response.

It was like that day when her mother and father had sat her down and told her they were getting divorced. Maka wasn't surprised or shocked. They fought every day, throwing around swears and dishes. But it had killed her; it had ripped off a piece of Makas soul, leaving behind a jagged wound. After negligence, the wound had been infected with poison. With no cure the poison spread throughout her soul, darkening it considerably.

"Four months." Maka hears herself say with a vicious tone. "Four. Months, Papa."

"Maka, I know, but Blair is really something else-"

"Shut up!" Maka screams. Tears prick at her eyes but pride prevents them from falling. "I can't—I can't talk to you right now. I'm leaving."

"Maka, please." Spirit tries to reach for her but she's out of his reach like she always was. The only family he had left was running from him, feet pounding as she disappeared around the corner. The pain that tried to wash over him was too much and so Spirit did the only thing that he knew how to do lately. He walked back inside and took a swig from his dark brown bottle.


	8. Seven

**A/N: Hello guys :) this is chapter seven! i know this story is moving along a biiit slow, but it'll pick up in a bit don't worry! i hope everyone enjoys, please review! they always make me smile hehe and it helps me write, honestly.**

**Once again, enjoy! :) **

The voice that came through the phone was raspy and breathless, lined with sadness and anger. "Sorry, Soul. I can't come." Maka says. Her voice was strange, like her nose had been blocked up from crying too hard.

"Why?" Soul asks. The wind blows and he hears it rushing from her side of the line, telling him that she was already outside. Briefly he wondered if she was wearing a jacket. Night was settling and in Death City whether it was summer or winter the weather always leaned towards the cold side.

"Some stuff popped up, sorry. Rain check?" Souls mouth slanted downwards. He didn't expect his silver lining to cancel on him and he almost asked her where she was, maybe they could meet up, but decided that it wouldn't be that cool of him.

"Yeah, rain check." Soul says casually. "See ya."

"Uh huh, bye."

In the background Soul heard a cashier ring and Maka saying thank you. A voice says, "You're welcome, thank you for shopping at Death Depot."and then the line is cut. Souls face wrinkles in confusion, wondering what a young girl was doing at Death Depot at a time like this.

"Yo! Soul, Maka coming?" BlackStar yells.

"Nah, some shit came up." Soul replies, putting his phone away. He checks the ball to Kid and sighs, getting ready to finish the game.

As he played, she stayed on his mind. It was ridiculous really, he was ridiculous. He barely knew this girl and yet there she was, running marathons in his head all day long. Even more so now because of what his mother had ordered of him. _How the fuck am I gonna do that_, Soul thinks as he does a lay up. It bounces off the rim into Kids hands who looked at him in worry.

"You alright?" Kid asks. "You're not as good as before."

"It's Maakkaa." Patti teases, laughing. "He's totally into her."

"Shut the fuck up." Soul says, only half serious. "I've only known her for a fucking week." Liz laughs from her spot on the grass, meticulously painting her toes.

"Love at first sight, how sweet." Liz coos, making the boys laugh.

"I see it too." Kid tells them. "His eyes are always drifting towards her."

"I approve!" BlackStar screams, laughing obnoxiously. "

"Ah, fuck you all." Soul throws up the middle finger and his friends cackle. "I'm leaving!" He announces. There were halfhearted goodbyes as Soul gathers his things, hopping onto his motorcycle. The night was still young, barely seven p.m. It was a full moon tonight and Soul didn't know if it was the moon or his own idiocy but he decided that he wanted some coffee. Specifically something from Deathbucks, maybe that new pumpkin shit that Liz and Patti had been drinking earlier in the day.

Soul rode to the nearest Deathbucks, Daft Punk blaring from his headphones. The technological beats thrummed with his heart making Souls toes tap along. The world was robotic, all silver and chrome, grids and lines as Soul passed by. Music was Souls savior, perhaps the only thing that kept Soul going in a world he deemed as pointless.

The cafe was practically empty as Soul walked in. Only a few people sat in the room, one clicking on a laptop as another read a fairly large novel. It smelled of coffee, of course it did, but while coffee brought on the sensations of hazy mornings, Deathbucks was clipped and clean. Not at all homey or hazy; it was all sharp edges and corners. Soul found himself grimacing as he walked to the cashier, but when did he ever really smile?

"Hello, sir, welcome to Deathbucks. What can I do for you?" The girl in front of his asks, giving him her working smile. Soul looks up briefly, their eyes connected. She stops breathing as suddenly his deep red eyes pierce hers, reminding the lady of demons and devils, Satan himself.

"Uh, hi. Can I have one of those pumpkin things?" Soul asks the brunette in front of him, brushing off her reaction. It came too often, ever since he was a child. He wonders what she'll do if he smiled.

"One pumpkin spice latte? What size, sir?" The sweet voice asks him, now trembling.

"The smallest one." There was a few buttons pressed and Soul hands over the money needed. He watched her fingers tremble as he hands holds out his hand, careful not to touch him. Thank yous were exchanged, and boredly Soul walks over to the far right counter where the sign above stated to wait.

Soul plugs in his headphones again, closing his eyes to the beat. Music. The only thing that didn't stray from him. A door opens and Soul cracks an eye open to look out of instinct. A girl walks out, messy blonde bun on top of her head. She was dainty like a doll, emerald eyes lined with rubies and wet lashes.

"Maka?" Soul asks. Makas eyes widen at the sight of Soul, still in basketball shorts and a sweatshirt. His hair stuck up wildly from his ride without a helmet, blazing red eyes scanning her body.

"Soul?" She says. "What are you doing here?"

"Tall pumpkin spice latte?" A worker asks, standing at the counter.

"Thanks, that's mine." Soul takes his coffee and returns his gaze back to Maka. "What are you doing here?"

"Um, hot chocolate." She lifts her grande hot chocolate with a caramel shot a bit to show him, trying to give him a slight smile. The movement makes the fabric of her jacket brush along the fresh cuts along her wrist and she holds back a wince. She had bandaged them of course, bought all the needed supplies at Death Depot and the Deathmart beside it before she sated her addiction in a Deathbucks bathroom. There was still a fear though that the blood would leak since Makas blood was thin and didn't clot as fast as others. Something about her being anemic, Maka couldn't quite remember at the moment.

The urge that took over Maka the moment she left her home had taken control of her. She was a marionette on strings, her addiction her puppeteer. Maka barely remembered buying the razors or the gauzes and she only remembered to think when the pain pulled her back to reality and the blood blossomed like red roses on her wrist.

The pair sits down at a booth albeit awkwardly. The bag at Maka sides rustles as she places it on the table and Soul catches the Death Depot brand. She takes a sip of her drink as Soul settles back into the chair.

"So, what happened?" He asks nonchalantly.

"Um, family." Maka tells him. She wasn't lying, not quite telling the truth.

"Mind if I ask what about family?" She catches his gaze, bloody but true. He was just curious, making small talk.

"My dad is getting married."

"Congrats, right?" Soul says. Marriage was always a happy thing. Certainly for his brother.

"He got divorced from my mom four months ago."

"Ah..."

A silence settled over them completely uncomfortable and choking. A few more sips were taken before Soul sighs and stands up. Maka looks up at him, waiting for his words.

"Let's go for a ride." Soul says.

"What?"

"A ride. Come on. They always take my mind off things, it'll help you too." Maka wasn't given a choice as he takes her hand and pulls her out the cafe, leaving their drinks half full on the glossy table.

Soul plops his helmet on Makas head, buckling it underneath her chin. His fingers brushed across her chin before straddling his bike swiftly. Maka looks at him, still dazed at the sudden change. He looks at her expectantly before jerking his head to the left, a notion telling her to get her ass on. Like a newborn gazelle, Maka sits on the bike, putting her feet on the pegs and hands on his back.

"Um, where are we going?" Maka asks, breathless. She doesn't even know why she climbed onto his bike, He wasn't a stranger, but it wasn't like he was her best friend.

"Just hold on." Soul smiles as he revs his engine, feeling her hands tighten on his shoulders. Once he took off, Maka shrieked and her hands found their place tight around his waist. She was warm against his back, squeezing him so tight he could barely breath. Soul laughed though, the delightful sound traveling to her ears.

"Where are we going!" Maka yells as the wind roars through her ears.

"You'll see!" He replies over his shoulder. In reality though, Soul had no fucking idea. He had acted on impulse. He just needed to wipe off that sad look from her face, banish those remnants of tears from her eyes.

A stroke of genius hits him and Soul swerves onto the highway, causing Maka to shriek. They fly by empty roads and dying trees, spindly arms stretching towards heaven. Maka grips Souls sweatshirt with her sweat hands, nervous that she was going to fall off. It was her first time on a motorcycle, hell the girl had never even been on a bike. But the fear ebbed away she she grasped onto Soul, the world whizzing past her.

Soon the pavement road and dying trees transformed into the beach and green blue shimmering shores. As Soul skillfully parked his motorcycle on the side of the rode, Maka unbuckles her helmet. She gets off, eyes scanning the wide open space. Death City was small and cramped, always bustling with activity. The sight of emptiness, the sound of silence; it was very rare.

"Where are we?" Maka asks.

"Outskirts of the city." Soul replies, smiling because of her face filled with awe. "Unmapped beach, no one really knows about it. Come on." He takes her hand and helps her climb down the hill that led down to the shore. Her hand pulls away from his as she runs up, arms up stretched and face towards the sky.

Maka takes in a deep breath, tasting the salt on her tongue. The air was crisp and fresh, cold as it passed through her nose. Laughter bubbles up to the surface and she spins a little too hard, her bun coming loose and falling out. Maka doesn't even care as she takes off her shoes and socks, walking into the water. She shivers and digs her toes into the wet sand, watching as the shore shifts the floor beneath her, changing it with one single wave over and over again.

"Wow, its like you've never been to the ocean." Soul says watching her childish fascination. It was the perfect setting, the perfect mood. He was smooth and he was cool; certainly if he asked for a favor from her right now she wouldn't be able to say no.

"Not many times. Not since I was a child." Maka smiles as she crouches down, fingers touching the cool water.

Soul sighs and lays down on the beach, pulling his hood up so his hair didn't get any sand in it. "Come lay down." He orders, patting the spot beside him. Maka complies, merely because the water was getting cold. She pads over, bare feet and all and sets her shoes to the side before lying down too look at what Soul was looking at.

"Oh my god, so many stars." Maka murmurs, first time seeing the galaxy so pure.

"Yeah, can't see these in the city." He tells her. She was closer than he had expected, arm brushing his. Warmth seeped from her and Soul smiles lazily. "See that? That's the big dipper. Over there is Orion. That one is Scorpio, and riiight over there is Aquila."

Maka watches his finger point back and forth to the many different constellations. They glittered in the blackness, catching her attention just briefly before she moved onto another one. Maka found her eyes drooping from drowsiness. Soul keeps speaking, long after she falls into a light sleep and only stops when a snore emits from her.

When his gaze travels to her, eyes closed and lips slightly parted as she breathed, he smiles at her simple beauty. Soul guesses that he'll just have to ask her for a favor tomorrow.


	9. Eight

**A/N: Wooo, chapter eight and thirty followers! I'm very grateful, thank you so much! Love you all :) Please enjoy this chapter and leave a review! I would be very grateful, hehe.**

**I think I use exclamation points too much but, oh well aha.**

**p.s I don't own Soul Eater sadly. **

"Maka, come here, come on." Soul murmurs, picking her up from the ground. The girl murmurs something underneath her breath, still half asleep. Her arms wrap around him and she nuzzles into his neck. Soul shivers as her lips brush against his neck and he has to remind himself that she's asleep, she's _asleep_ for godssakes. Soul walks up the hill towards the car that he had ordered to come.

"Hello, Soul." Edward says, bowing slightly at the waist. He was Souls personal chauffeur, there to take and pick up Soul whenever and where ever he needed. The elderly man had quite an easy job considering that Soul liked to travel by motorcycle anyways. Edward opens the back door for Soul to slide in, Maka still half asleep in his arms.

"Send someone for my bike, will you, Eddie?"

"Yes, sir." Ed shuts the door quietly, dialing a number on his cellphone.

Letting out a tired breath Soul settles into the leather seat, Makas breath on his collarbone. She was so light in his arms; he doesn't even think she reached 100 pounds. Having her close though was so nice. Soul didn't know what it was but whenever she was around he was better. He wasn't quite half as angry as before, his blood didn't boil quite so often and the clench in his muscles eased up so he could too. She had some sort of effect on him, an intoxicating drug that made his numbness turn into pleasure.

The knock on the window made Soul jump, causing the girl in his arms to grumble. Soul shushes into her hair as he rolls the windows down to find Edward holding out the Death Depot bag.

"I believe this is the misses." Edward says.

Soul thanks him as he takes the bag. He throws it on the seat, whatever inside clinking and rolls up the window when the moonlight suddenly shines off of something metal. Souls finger on the button pauses as he squints at the glint on his seat. After rolling up the window, he reaches for whatever it was slowly, trying not to move too much. Souls fingers settle on cool metal, surface smooth and new. He lifts it up to get a better look at it, flipping it to look at the other side. It was a trapezoid blade, one end impeccably sharp.

Out of curiosity Soul opens up the bag, maneuvering skillfully as to not awaken Maka. Inside he found another package of razor blades, not yet opened and a wad of paper. His fingers pry it open and he doesn't know how to react when he finds the inside bloody, a stained blade in the center like a ghastly prize.

Millions of thoughts zip through Souls head as his eyes flicker from the blades to the blood to the band aids and then to Makas delicate wrists, wadded in her black jacket. With trembling hands and a blank brain Soul slips his fingers underneath her sleeve and then there it was; a thick gauze taped over her wrist where the cuts were. Blood had seeped through the bandage and it stained Souls fingers as he pulled back, breath bated.

He looks at the angel sitting on him, face flushed and eyes closed. Dark lashes rested on her cheeks, lips parted as she breathes. Then he looked back to his fingers, rusty red on the tips from the remnants of her self harm. Soul had heard of this cutting thing before. He knew the chemical reactions and what drove a person to do it. They had all learned about it freshman year in health class, and he had actually taken the extra classes when he was a sophomore because it interested him. At first, Soul was shocked and disgusted. No matter how sad or depressed or numb he was, Soul knew that he would never_ cut_ himself. But after the classes and a few questions dropped in the anonymous box, Soul realized that it was a last resort. It was an addiction, easy to start but hard to drop.

Now here he was. Sitting in a car, a cutter in his arms. There was no repulsion, no hatred, just confusion and sadness and a heavy fucking weight on his shoulders. How was he supposed to go about this? He couldn't let her go on doing it, hell no, but he couldn't exactly just say, "Hey, I know you're self harming and you need to stop." Was he supposed to tell someone? Ask her first? Tell her dad? Should he have an intervention? What the_ fuck _was he supposed to do? Why did she do it though?

At first glance, Maka was quiet and shy. But she didn't look depressed. She didn't look like a girl who would take a blade to her skin, night after night. Her long sleeves and sweaters were brushed off because of the weather and she laughed like the others, smiled like the others. Soul didn't even know she was sad, at all, never mind depressed and hurting.

Soul didn't know what to do, what to think. At the moment, he barely knew how to breathe never mind function correctly. He looks at Maka again and she shifts in his arms, a crease appearing in her forehead. A hand clenches around the fabric of his shirt as nightmare enters her dreams and Soul finds himself shushing her softly, a hand stroking her head. She settles in a few moments, Souls hand tangled into fallen locks of her hair and his heart thumping a symphony in her eardrum.

''''''

_We need to talk. Come find me when you wake up, yeah?-Soul_

That was the message that Maka woke up to, written on a scrap of paper with blue pen that was running out of ink. She wasn't in her own bed or room, and panic quickly set in. But as Maka held the slip of paper tightly between her fingers, she let herself relax. His name was there, that was Souls name. Just knowing that he knew where she was made her feel safe, content.

"Miss Albarn?" Maka jumps at the voice and scrambles to get away, falling off the bed in the act. She peeks from the edge of the bed to find a girl looking at her, small smile on her face. She was beautiful. Tall, thin, pretty face and sweet smile.

"W-Who are you?" Maka says.

"I am a maid of the Evans household. My name is Melinda. Soul has assigned me to you today." The girl bows respectfully. "Please allow me to help you bathe and dress."

"W-Wait, it's Monday!" Maka exclaims jumping up. "Oh god, I have school. I have to go, oh god, where am I, what time is it, what-"

"Please calm down, Miss Albarn!" Melinda takes Makas hands and squeezes them reassuringly. "Soul has already informed Principals Death about your absence. You are free today. It is currently 10:23 a.m, we are at the Evans household and Soul has ordered me to help you this morning."

"O-Oh." Maka clears her throat awkwardly and wipes her sweaty hands on her pants.

"The bath has been drawn." Melinda tells her. "Clothes and a towel will spread out for you. Do you acquire assistance, Miss Albarn?"

"N-No!" Maka exclaims a little loudly.

"Alright, come on now. The bathroom is this way." Melinda leads her to a steaming bathroom then exits with a smile. Silence filled the room, the only thing breaking it was Makas shallows breaths. What had even happened that night? Maka wracked her brain for memories but could only remember a hazy night of stars and Souls lulling voice. Had she fallen asleep? Most likely. He carried her home or something? Put her on the bike? Why didn't he just wake her up? A grumpy groan emits from Maka and she looks back at the paper still in her hand.

She takes in a deep breath, trying to breathe normally. "Okay," Maka murmurs to herself as she turns. "I'm gonna take a bath. Put on clothes. Go find Soul. Ask what happened. Okay, okay. Calm, Maka, calm. Everything is okay, everything is alright."

Steam clouded her sight and when it cleared, Maka stops breathing. It was not a bath. It was a seven by ten foot pool. There was a steaming pool in front of her with marble flooring and nice hot water, just waiting to swam in. Maka walks over in awe and dips her bare toe into the water, shivering from the pleasant warmth. Quickly she strips off her clothes, eyes drifting of scars and then to the bandages on her wrists. She peels it off and throws it away to find the cuts scabbed over, a bit of crusty blood at the edges. As Maka submerged herself in the bath along with her wrists, they burned. They always did.

Underneath the water she cleans them off, wincing at the pain. Her hands rub over the cuts on her wrists and then the scars on her thighs. A sigh comes from Maka and she closes her eyes, leaning her head back on the ledge. She submerged herself into the water, wetting her hair and then grabbed the shampoo. She lathered her locks with sweet citrus smelling shampoo and conditioner and then cleaned her body with matching body wash.

Maka relaxes into the water, feeling her tightness uncoil. She hasn't taken a bath like this is a long time. Time never allowed it. Maka almost fell asleep in the warmth that wrapped around her but there was a knock at the door that made her flinch.

"Miss Albarn?" A voice asks. "Are you alright in there?" Melinda comes walking through the door, a pile of clothes and towels in her arms. Maka jumps to cover herself, wrapping into a ball.

"Y-Yes, I'm fine." She stutters, laughing nervously. "I'll be okay, thank you." Melinda merely smiles at her and sets her things down by the bath along with a small black box.

"Here are your towels and clothes. Please come out soon, Soul has ordered for your presence. He also ordered me to bring you bandages." Melissa bows and turns. There was a click clack of heals as Melinda walks away and Maka waits for the sound to fade. Bandages? Why would Soul send her bandages? Maka wracks her brain for an answer and comes up with one, only one that makes her heart jump into her throat and beat like a drum. Did Soul...know? About her cutting? No, no, he couldn't have. They were always covered, she hasn't told anyone. She was sure of it, sure that she's left no traces, no clues, no hints-

The Death Depot bag.

Maka bites her bottom lip, hard. "Shit, shit, shit." Maka whispers, jumping from the waters.

The cold hair hit her instantly, making her shiver and goosebumps rise up along her arms and legs. She grabs the short towel and wraps it around herself, pressing it to her skin to wipe away the dew. Maybe it was in the room, Maka thinks. She didn't get quite a good look at it anyways, she was lead to the bathroom before she could barely think.

With hair still wet and sticking to her neck, Maka exits the bathroom in a rush nearly dripping over her own feet. She runs to the bed, eyes flickering from the pillows to the comforter to the bedside tables and to the chandelier above her head. At lightning speed Makas eyes travel across flowered wall paper and glass coffee tables but no, there as no white plastic crinkly bag with Death Depots bright orange emblem on it.

"Hello?" The door cracked open and Melinda's head popped in. "Miss Albarn? Would you like some help dressing?"

"Uh, n-no, thank you though, Melinda." Maka presses her arms against her body, tugging down the towel out of habit. She just realizes how much she was panting and how hard her heart was pounding against her temples.

"Alright. I apologize but Soul demands that you be a bit quicker. " Melinda shuts the door gently behind her as Maka slumps to the floor. Only one though races through her mind, blinding everything else.

Soul knew about her addiction.


End file.
